have almost destroyed us. We had no choice other than to take you away from him.” He pauses, his silver eyes boring into me as if he can read my thoughts. He can’t. Telepathy isn’t one of the endangered magics; it’s one of the extinct and forever lost ones. “We would like your help, McKenzie. And we’d like to help you.”
“Help me?” I snort. “The only thing I need from you is permission to leave.”
“And allow Atroth to continue using you?” He shakes his head. “That’s not an option.”
“What if I agree not to work for the Court again?”
Sethan’s brow wrinkles as if he can’t comprehend my question. His eyes narrow and he studies me. I hope he can’t read my expression. I hope he sees my offer as the biggest concession I can make and not as something I’ve been planning to do for several weeks now. Next Saturday, the day I was supposed to graduate if I hadn’t flunked my final exam—and I’m certain I did flunk it—I planned to announce my retirement to the Court. Avoiding the Realm and everything fae is the only way I’ll be able to live a normal, human life, and in anticipation of my degree, I filled out an application for an entry-level editor position in a suburb outside of Houston. I made plans to make new friends, to join a book club, to go to movies and concerts and clubs and all the other places normal people have time to go, but that’s not going to happen now, not unless I escape these fae and discover some way to convince my professor to let me retake my final.
Thinking about escape makes me turn my attention to the dark forest. A gentle breeze blows, and I half expect Kyol to step into the clearing, a silent, deadly figure in the night. A little tug of longing pulls at my heart.
Aren speaks over the rustling leaves. “She thinks they’ll let her go.”
I shift my gaze to the false-blood. “Of course they’ll let me go. They’re not the ones who’ve kidnapped me. They’re not the ones who are trying to blackmail me into working for them. I’m free to leave whenever I want.”
Aren gives Sethan a pointed look. “See.”
“See what?” I demand.
“Your ignorance.” He grins as if he’s just delivered the punch line to a grand ol’ joke. He crosses the porch and rests a hand on the knob of the front door. “Talk to her, Sethan. Then tell me what you decide.”
The door clanks shut behind him. My stomach twists and turns, but this time, I’m not sure if it’s because I’m starving or because Aren’s left me alone with an unfamiliar fae. It makes no sense, I know. Aren’s the man who’s abducted me, who’s brought me halfway across the planet, and who’s responsible for the massacre at Brykeld. The thing is, other than knocking me unconscious to keep me quiet in the engineering building, he hasn’t hurt me. In fact, he’s been almost kind. He could have—probably should have—ripped into me for my escape attempt. Instead, he healed me.
Sethan leans against the rail. “Aren thinks the Court has misled you. He thinks if you learn the truth of this war, you’ll work with us.”
“I already know the truth.” The knots in my stomach tighten. I’m not completely delusional. I know how easy it would be for the Court to mislead me. I don’t speak their language. I don’t understand their politics. I know only the history that’s been told to me. But I’ve seen what these rebels have done and Kyol . . . Kyol wouldn’t be on the wrong side of the war. He’s a good man, and even though I want him to be more, he’s a friend. Has been for the last ten years. He couldn’t have faked every moment he’s been with me.
“The king’s told you there are thirteen provinces,” Sethan says. “He’s lying. There are seventeen. I’m sure he’s also told you we want complete control of the gates. We don’t. We want equal access to them and reasonable tariffs.”
Who is this guy? “You could have discussed that with Atroth years ago—he gave
“Help me?” I snort. “The only thing I need from you is permission to leave.”
“And allow Atroth to continue using you?” He shakes his head. “That’s not an option.”
“What if I agree not to work for the Court again?”
Sethan’s brow wrinkles as if he can’t comprehend my question. His eyes narrow and he studies me. I hope he can’t read my expression. I hope he sees my offer as the biggest concession I can make and not as something I’ve been planning to do for several weeks now. Next Saturday, the day I was supposed to graduate if I hadn’t flunked my final exam—and I’m certain I did flunk it—I planned to announce my retirement to the Court. Avoiding the Realm and everything fae is the only way I’ll be able to live a normal, human life, and in anticipation of my degree, I filled out an application for an entry-level editor position in a suburb outside of Houston. I made plans to make new friends, to join a book club, to go to movies and concerts and clubs and all the other places normal people have time to go, but that’s not going to happen now, not unless I escape these fae and discover some way to convince my professor to let me retake my final.
Thinking about escape makes me turn my attention to the dark forest. A gentle breeze blows, and I half expect Kyol to step into the clearing, a silent, deadly figure in the night. A little tug of longing pulls at my heart.
Aren speaks over the rustling leaves. “She thinks they’ll let her go.”
I shift my gaze to the false-blood. “Of course they’ll let me go. They’re not the ones who’ve kidnapped me. They’re not the ones who are trying to blackmail me into working for them. I’m free to leave whenever I want.”
Aren gives Sethan a pointed look. “See.”
“See what?” I demand.
“Your ignorance.” He grins as if he’s just delivered the punch line to a grand ol’ joke. He crosses the porch and rests a hand on the knob of the front door. “Talk to her, Sethan. Then tell me what you decide.”
The door clanks shut behind him. My stomach twists and turns, but this time, I’m not sure if it’s because I’m starving or because Aren’s left me alone with an unfamiliar fae. It makes no sense, I know. Aren’s the man who’s abducted me, who’s brought me halfway across the planet, and who’s responsible for the massacre at Brykeld. The thing is, other than knocking me unconscious to keep me quiet in the engineering building, he hasn’t hurt me. In fact, he’s been almost kind. He could have—probably should have—ripped into me for my escape attempt. Instead, he healed me.
Sethan leans against the rail. “Aren thinks the Court has misled you. He thinks if you learn the truth of this war, you’ll work with us.”
“I already know the truth.” The knots in my stomach tighten. I’m not completely delusional. I know how easy it would be for the Court to mislead me. I don’t speak their language. I don’t understand their politics. I know only the history that’s been told to me. But I’ve seen what these rebels have done and Kyol . . . Kyol wouldn’t be on the wrong side of the war. He’s a good man, and even though I want him to be more, he’s a friend. Has been for the last ten years. He couldn’t have faked every moment he’s been with me.
“The king’s told you there are thirteen provinces,” Sethan says. “He’s lying. There are seventeen. I’m sure he’s also told you we want complete control of the gates. We don’t. We want equal access to them and reasonable tariffs.”
Who is this guy? “You could have discussed that with Atroth years ago—he gave
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